


if we can make it through december (maybe we'll make it through forever)

by nothingbutniall



Category: WTFock | Skam (Belgium)
Genre: Christmas market, Fluff, M/M, WTFock Season 3, babies in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21821803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingbutniall/pseuds/nothingbutniall
Summary: Robbe and Sander at the Christmas market.
Relationships: Sander Driesen/Robbe IJzermans
Comments: 20
Kudos: 311





	if we can make it through december (maybe we'll make it through forever)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so glad they found each other.
> 
> (Title comes from Liam Payne's 'All I Want For Christmas (Is You)' which quite honestly could be this season's soundtrack.)

There is a warmth in Robbe’s stomach that has nothing to do with the glühwein he just had and everything to do with the boy currently sneaking his hand around Robbe’s waist and into the pocket of his coat.

“Hey,” Robbe laughs softly as Sander wiggles his fingers, the movement ticklish even through the thick fabric of Robbe’s jumper.

“My hands are freezing.” Sander lifts his free hand and brushes his palm over Robbe’s cheek.

Robbe struggles not to roll his eyes at him. “I told you to wear gloves.”

“Don’t have gloves.”

Robbe’s brows furrow. “Yes, you do. I saw them on the kitchen table.”

A sigh passes Sander’s lips, as if he’s trying to explain something to a child. “They’re mittens. It’s not the same.”

This time, Robbe does roll his eyes. “Well, you could’ve worn your mittens then!”

“Couldn’t,” Sander sulks. “You can’t hold hands properly with mittens on.”

 _Christ._ Robbe is in love with an idiot. He stops walking, looking straight into Sander’s eyes as he searches for words to tell him how much of a dumbass he is, but he comes up short. Instead, he leans in for a kiss, feels the cold of Sander’s lips and the heat of his tongue, and tries to keep his heartbeat steady at the sound of people walking past.

“Okay,” he says when they part, “we’re getting you gloves.”

“And a Santa hat.”

Sometimes, it’s easiest to indulge Sander. This is one of those moments.

“Yes, sure, and a Santa hat.”

“And a Mrs Claus outfit for you.”

Sander says it so deadpan that Robbe has to look to his side to see if he’s being serious. The look on his face seems to say so, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and he’s staring a little too intently at the ice rink in front of them.

“Not even in your dreams.”

Sander raises his eyebrows at him. “I bet there is a universe out there in which you are currently giving me a lap dance in a Mrs Claus outfit.”

Robbe can feel the heat rush to his cheeks and he quickly turns his head to see if anyone’s been eavesdropping on them. “Shut up.”

“You’d pull it off. Cute little skirt, legs on sho-”

He is cut off by Robbe’s hand covering his mouth.

“Shut up,” Robbe repeats, leaving his hand where it is even when Sander’s tongue licks the palm of his hand.

They end up having a staring contest in the middle of the Christmas market, Sander’s eyes daring Robbe to remove his hand while Robbe’s tell Sander to keep his mouth shut.

Eventually, Robbe very slowly and very carefully moves his hand away.

Sander’s eyes twinkle and he opens his mouth as if he’s going to continue embarrassing Robbe, but then he laughs, bright and loud, and pulls Robbe in for a hug, kissing the side of his head. “It’s so easy to rile you up.”

“You think you’re so funny,” Robbe huffs, but even he can hear the fondness in his voice. “Come on, we’re still on a mission.”

“Mission Gloves,” Sander muses. “Or, actually – Mission Mittens sounds better. Let’s go for mittens.”

“Let’s _not_ go for mittens because if you had worn yours, we wouldn’t be on a mission at all.”

“Killjoy.”

“Dumbass.”

That seems to shut Sander up, at least temporarily. Robbe tugs him along to the stall he spotted earlier where an older couple sell homemade knitwear.

They quickly find a pair of black-and-white gloves and Robbe politely chitchats with the woman as she rings up their purchase. Just as he’s handing over the money, Sander leans over and hands the woman something else.

“This one, too, please.”

The woman takes the item and laughs softly as she adds it to the bill. “You’re the first to buy one.”

Robbe tries not to let the confusion show on his face as he pays, and they thank the couple before moving to the side of the stall so Sander can get his gloves on.

“What did you get?”

“I told you, I wanted to get a Santa hat.”

Robbe frowns. It hadn’t looked like a traditional Santa hat.

His suspicion is proven valid as Sander pulls the hat over his hair – and the beard over his face.

“ _Oh my God_ ,” he breathes out in disbelief. Sander is wearing a red hat, which looks completely normal, until the white fluffy beard attached to it comes into view.

It reminds Robbe of Sander dressing up as Saint Nicholas, and a jolt of pain shoots through his heart as he remembers how that evening had played out.

It’s hard to believe that was only a few weeks ago, hard to believe he genuinely thought he’d meant nothing to Sander when the love in Sander’s eyes is so clear.

But they made it. Things might not be perfect yet, and for all Robbe knows, they might never be, but they made it, and they’re here, and it’s all he could have wished for.

“I love you,” he tells Sander.

“I love you,” Sander replies without missing a beat.

“I want to burn the hat, though.”

Sander snorts. “Good thing Antwerp doesn’t do fire pits at the Christmas market anymore.”

“Could throw it in the river, too.”

“You’re just jealous I’m so fashionable.”

Robbe smiles. “Maybe you should’ve gone to the fashion academy instead of the art one.”

“They couldn’t handle my talent. They’re not ready for all the nudity.”

If there was one thing Robbe had learned in the short timespan that he’d known Sander, it was that the boy sure loved being naked.

Not in a creepy, exhibitionistic kind of way though. Sander just enjoys the freedom, the feeling of comfort in his own skin. No hiding, no covering up. Take it or leave it.

Robbe can’t deny he finds it incredibly sexy, waking up to Sander walking around in his room naked. The flat of his chest and the hair under his arms and the way his muscles move under his skin make it undeniable that he is a boy, that Robbe is in love with a boy.

Even now, as they’re walking towards the ferris wheel near the river, the slight height advantage Sander has over him makes Robbe’s heart go a little faster.

Sander is bigger than Robbe, not just physically but also mentally. He has lived more, loved more.

His fingers are longer, his hand encompassing Robbe’s when they hold hands. It makes Robbe feel safe and cared for in a way he hadn’t ever realised he’d been missing.

Suddenly, Sander pulls him to a halt, right in the middle of the Grand Place. The Christmas lights around them reflect in his eyes, enhancing their natural sparkle.

When Sander doesn't say anything, Robbe cocks his eyebrow at him. Sander points a finger up. "Look where we're standing."

Robbe looks up, expecting to see the night sky above them. Instead, he finds they are standing right underneath some mistletoe.

Sander tilts his head to the side slightly, a questioning look on his face. He takes a step closer, hand resting low on Robbe's back, but he refrains from closing the entire distance between them. Robbe doesn't understand his hesitation, until Sander whispers: "Okay?"

He's waiting for him. Waiting for Robbe to give his permission, waiting for Robbe to decide if he wants to kiss in a place so public.

It's not like this is their first kiss since they were assaulted, nor is it their first kiss in public, but it _is_ the most visible, the most _out there_ location. People are already looking at them, someone's pulled out their phone like they're expecting a proposal. Robbe lets out a small laugh and nods almost unnoticeably if it weren't for the fact that Sander is looking at him so intently.

They move at the same time, lips colliding with more force than necessary. They're smiling, laughing into the kiss, too much teeth for it to be actually good, but it doesn't matter. There's a giggle in Robbe's throat, butterflies in his stomach, and a whole lot of love in his heart.

This is the start of their forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can also find me on Twitter (@nothingbutniall)!


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